


Let's Get Physical

by AndreaLyn



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2015-01-31
Packaged: 2018-03-09 20:51:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3263987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndreaLyn/pseuds/AndreaLyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danny doesn't like swimming and he doesn't like running; Steve won't rest until he finds a physical activity that he can get Danny to like.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let's Get Physical

**Author's Note:**

> Post 5x12 episode fic

It’s not like Steve is mortally offended by the idea that Danny doesn’t like swimming and Danny doesn’t like running, it just bugs him. Okay, no, it actually really bugs him. Swimming is fun and running is a great way to take your mind off things. It’s bad enough that Steve still barely gets Danny out to go surfing, but he might actually be starting to get worried about his partner’s lack of activity.

So with Grace’s help, he starts a new project.

“Racquetball,” Danny says in reply to Steve’s new gift, a bow on the handle of a new racquet. He looks at it the way he looks at salad on his plate or vintage cars. That little downturn of his lips that quirk lower as if he’s impressed by how much he hates it. Waving the racquet in the air, he gives Steve a dubious look. “For, what, playing bad cop in the interrogation room?”

“No, Danny, it’s…” Steve lets out a huff of frustration. “It’s for _racquetball_.”

“Why?” Danny echoes with stunned disbelief.

Steve thinks if he has to say ‘for racquetball’ one more time, his patience might actually eject from his body as if to prove that he’s completely done with Steve and all of this. This is the man that Steve’s decided to go and fall in love with. This is the reason he keeps telling Ellie not to set him up with her friends, because what’s the point when you know where your heart lies?

Steve takes the racquet back swiftly and mutters a ‘never mind’, leaving Danny confused in his wake.

So racquet sports are out and swimming’s a bust. That’s why he bribes Chin Ho to get Danny down to the courts for some basketball.

That one doesn’t work out so well either. Danny takes one look at the group assembled – Grover, Kono, and Max versus the three of them – and then looks down at himself. Danny’s the shortest one of all of them and Steve, belatedly, realizes that maybe trying to get Danny to play basketball to work out isn’t the best of plans.

“Did you even think this one through?” Danny wonders, leaning against the chainlink fence.

Steve clears his throat to avoid admitting that he was wrong. “There’s plenty of people in the NBA who are…”

“Oh, say it,” Danny cuts him off. “I dare you to say it. Then you can start wondering which is the day that I spit in your coffee.”

So Steve doesn’t say it and while Danny only sits and watches them play, Steve actually has a really good time, so it’s not a complete bust. From there, though, his ideas start to veer a little off the normal track and head towards Steve’s quieter fantasies. In his desperation, he’s starting to let them slip and see the light of day.

He also suspects that Danny’s starting to figure out that these aren’t just ideas to keep Danny in shape.

“You bought me a yoga mat,” Danny says. “And yoga pants.”

“Yeah, they should fit you, I just bought your regular size.”

Danny hefts up the mat and stares at it for a long moment, his curious look craned towards Steve next. It’s a face he usually wears when he’s trying to deduce a crime – actually, no, this is worse. This is the face that Danny wears right before he actually solves it. Setting the mat down on his desk, he claps his hands together and rocks forward on his toes. 

“Okay, so I’m not doing yoga,” Danny clarifies, holding up his hand in the air to make his point, “but how about you and I talk about this. First the racquetball, then the basketball, and now you want me to get all bendy for you? Steve, what’s going on?”

“You don’t like running or swimming and you’ve stopped surfing since that jellyfish spill on the beach…”

“Because nature decided to creep up to my porch and remind me of how horrifying it can be,” Danny interrupts, like he just can’t go another second without clarifying.

“Danny, as much as you try and eat well for Grace, you’re still not exactly known for your nutrition,” Steve says. “Maybe I’m just trying to find you a physical activity you like because I love you, and I don’t want to think about losing you because of a heart problem or some other complication.”

They’ve said this a lot. ‘I love you,’ is normal and easy, but Steve feels like he hears a different tone in this one and he thinks that Danny’s heard it, too. That speculative and deductive look turns into something warmer and Steve tries to ignore how his whole body blossoms with warmth and his stomach plummets with anticipation when Danny smiles at him like Steve’s the most amazing thing in the world.

“Babe, you kind of missed my favorite physical activity when you were making that list,” Danny informs him, creeping up into Steve’s personal space. He’s grinning, now, that devious and adorable thing that has Steve feeling relieved and warm and fond. Danny’s busy wrapping his fingers in Steve’s shirt, twisting and tugging until they’re nearly flush together, licking his lips as he stares up at Steve. “Number one with a bullet, my favorite way to exercise is having sex.”

“You shouldn’t put that on a resume,” Steve deadpans, unable to help his joke.

“What are you saying, huh, am I out of a job?” Danny retorts, but he closes the distance between them to kiss Steve, giving him about two seconds before Danny’s aggressively pushing forward to pin Steve to the wall, dropping the yoga pants on the floor because that other hand is too busy grabbing Steve’s hip, now.

When they part, Steve’s heart is beating as fast as it would running a 6-minute mile. 

“So uh,” Danny says with a smirk, “do I get a presidential medal if I’m good in bed?”

“Only one way to find out,” Steve says, already calculating exactly how far they are from the nearest bed and wondering why, why the hell he didn’t think of this in the first place.

Two weeks later, there’s a fake medal hanging from Danny’s chair, Grace is asking questions, Danny is red in the face, and Steve has never been more in love in his ridiculous life. He waits patiently for Grace to leave, expecting to deal with a fuming Danny, but he’s more than willing to put up with it given that as soon as the steam vents, he intends to drag Danny off to the stockroom for a quick mid-day session.

Holding up the medal, Danny smacks it on Steve’s shoulder. “You had to make it silver, huh? Not even gold?”

“Always room for improvement,” Steve replies, even though Danny’s just as aware as Steve is that he’s pushing Danny’s buttons.

“You’re lucky I need the workout.”

Steve is absolutely, one-hundred percent aware that he’s so very lucky. He’s never been more thankful of anything in his life.

“C’mon,” Steve murmurs. “Let’s go practice for the gold.”


End file.
